Story of Her Life — The Society’s Wrath

The Society’s Wrath

She pressed her lips on my forehead for one last time and we parted on our own ways. My path is pretty predictable which brought us here; a stranger, telling you her life’s tale.

My life before I met her wasn’t as alive as latter. But once I met her, boy, oh boy! I swear my world changed. My heart started beating, my veins pumped blood like never before and I could see the world in a blur vision.

Days passed and she didn’t seem to notice me, yet. But one fine day, she noticed me and we entered a new chapter of my life.

She won’t stop talking to me even for a single day! It became our routine, she talked to me after waking up, while working and even before going down to sleep.

Everything was amazingly smooth. She also realized how amazing my kicks were. That was the time she smiled to herself and fantasized me as a world class football player. She thought I didn’t know what she had in mind, but I read her like a book, yes I did.

Now that it had been 5 months since we took morning walks, yoga classes and followed weird diets together for the sole purpose of staying fit. I don’t know how to put it but even after doing so many things together, she didn’t really know me nor had we met each other. I truly don’t know how to define our bond but it was something really special.

Good things don’t last long, her mother had whispered these words into her ear before they sent her to the hospital. Everything happened so rapidly, my tiny brain couldn’t comprehend it at that fast a rate.

Exactly 2 weeks after the hospital visit, my whole world collapsed.

They separated me from her, we were no more a single entity. They cut off the only bond of love we shared together. All of this happened, why? Only because I was a girl?

I had listened to few people claiming that our nation has reached new heights and has become “modern” but why does a nation even have to be “modern” to accept a girl like me?

Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? All of that happened yesterday night. I was completely covered in blood when she saw me for the first time. From head to toe. Struggling to breathe. And you know what she did?

She held me, while crying her lungs out, said that if it was upto her, things would’ve been different and that she always wanted me in spite of what her family and the society had to say. Lastly, she said that she’s sorry and kissed my forehead.

The next thing I remember is being dumped in a dustbin which was emptied in this dumpster where I met you, Moti, while you ravaged these wetlands for a treat. Poor you, you only found me.

Anyway, could you tell me why am I lying in a dumpster of an abortion clinic?

©Image Source — Google Images

A Miserable Truth — World Poetry Day!

Before I begin, a belated Happy World Poetry Day to each one of you! I know I’m late, but better late than never! On this eventful occasion, I would like to bring the following miserable topic out of the darkness. Let’s discuss about it once you’ve read the poem. I’d really want to know what you think about this particular tragedy surrounding us, which (talking for myself) has been an elephant in the room all my life.

Related image

A Miserable Truth

I’m hungry.
Feed me with life.

I’m dying.
Save my bleeding heart with your own.

I’m lost.
Search for me in the depths of your soul.

I’m suffering.
Kill me now & free me soon.

I’m done.
The word dignity has lost it’s worth.

I’m helpless.
There’s nothing I could’ve done to change time’s course.

I’m struggling.
The grip of death around my neck, chokes me.

I’m regretful.
If only I hadn’t left my toes off the ground, I’d change my fate.

I’m hazed.
The world has turned red, just like the sheets of my bed.

I’m screaming.
Although the screams don’t leave me, reminding me of the ones he muffled.

I’m impure.
Yet who would explain it to those people who say, “He’s your husband.”

I’m abandoned.
Not by his savagery, but by the ignorance that on-lookers’ eyes hold.

I’m infinite.
Now, only a minuscule digit added to the ever increasing number of marital rapes.

Post Script:

Marital Rape has been around our society since a long time, however, it is only recently that we’ve recognized how much harm can it cause to a person’s well-being and state of mind. I believe one of the reasons why it is hurtful to see the number of victims raising, is because a marital rape isn’t the sole thing that a person is put up against. It comes laced with the hurtful spikes of domestic violence and sexual assault.

Somehow, I feel responsible for this. I feel responsible for not being loud enough in supporting those victims to speak up.
As a human, it is our duty to help them but what have we done? Slammed the door of hope on them when they tried to seek haven from their dear friends. If the ones trusted by them do not support their stand then how would they find the courage to register a complaint?

Coming to India, I would like to quote Section 375 and Section 376:

Section 375, the provision of rape in the Indian Penal Code (IPC), has echoing very archaic sentiments, mentioned as its exception clause- “Sexual intercourse by  man with his own wife, the wife not being under 15 years of age, is not rape.” Section 376 of IPC provides punishment for rape. According to the section, the rapist should be punished with imprisonment of either description for a term which shall not be less than 7 years but which may extend to life or for a term extending up to 10 years and shall also be liable to fine unless the woman raped is his own wife, and is not under 12 years of age, in which case, he shall be punished with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to 2 years with fine or with both.

Source: Marital Rape and the Indian legal scenario

It’s funny how a man can only be charged if he rapes his wife who is under the age of 12! Contradicting it’s own code, we are well aware that the legal age of marriage for a girl is 18 years of age. At this point, I’m truly clueless.

That’s why, all I ask of you, is to understand the depth of the scars we cannot see on the bodies of people around us.
All I ask of you, is to help such people when in need and be the reason someone finds their courage. I’m nobody. But together we might be somebody’s reason to be alive. That’s all I hope to achieve and to see the numbers reduce.

Have a great week! Thank you for making it so far!

© The Honest Fabler — Ashutosh Gursale
© Image Source — Google Images


Mumbai Locals


You haven’t seen Mumbai’s most remarkable side,
Until you’ve been through an enthralling local ride.
Inheriting a variety of passengers having some rude souls to some really pretty,
It’s not for nothing that it’s nicknamed- ‘lifeline of the city’.

Where 08:13 is 08:13, not a minute more or less,
When one train would be called off the charts nobody can guess.
Having no assurance of whether all days may go according to plan,
It’s always a good decision to start as early as you can.

Instilling punctuality in an individual at it’s best,
It’s only during monsoons that the system slightly goes down to rest.
From beginning the journey to reaching a destination,
One can witness a plethora of human emotions.

Rediscovering the daredevil inside you that you never knew,
‘Cause one day you finally boarded a running train to become one of the very few.
Transforming non-peak hours to observe a bogie shopping spree,
Children can be found selling to earn for their happiness and glee.

The bhajan kirtans after a tiresome day is enough to win over your heart,
No other songs can be compared to these melodies in your ipod or mp3 cart.
The new folks seem confused after going through the Local-Lines Map,
While the regular folks can be spotted having a blissful nap.

Window seats are the ones which spontaneously get filled,
So the rest choose to stand footboard to enjoy the warm thrills of the wind.
Some shouting curses to get inside the crowded train with a brawl,
But to sum up it makes routine feel a less dreary overall.

Sometimes trains may get late,
Sometimes there are mishaps taking place,
With an equivalent probability of when a ticket-checker and another calamity will arrive,
The perpetual spirits and hopes of Mumbaikars is what keeps the city alive.

About the Author

Radhika Ravindra

A book sniffer, photophile and an amicable soul who’s a big fan of unplanned trips with a good-humoured company.
A badminton fanatic and a compulsive procrastinator whose desirous mind is very proud of her music playlist.
Embellishes getting lost into the world of Marvel Cinematic Universe, Hogwarts and is a spirited writer at the Honest Fabler since 18 March 2018.

© The Honest FablerRadhika Ravindra
© Image Source — Google

A Reborn Princess

It’s never too late to be reborn as a person that you want to be. 

-Madhav Ramanathan

“Train arriving on Platform number 4 at 20 hours and 3 minutes is expected 15-20 minutes late today.”
He looked at his wristwatch that pointed 8:10 and his distant eyes stopped their search.

He found a place to sit in a faraway corner on the crowded platform. If only the train wasn’t late today. He took a deep breath and dialed a landline number.

“Madhav! Why didn’t you call earlier? Did you get it?” A high pitched voice rushed out from Madhav’s receiver.
“I’ll be late, you guys go on without waiting for me.” He slipped his hand in the bag. His heart skipped a beat when he couldn’t touch it, but he felt the rustling plastic, eventually. “I’ve got it.”
“Priya is asking you to get a cab.” But Madhav bluntly rejected it.
“I’ll come soon. Have fun!” A halfhearted smile crossed his face and he thought about being with them at that moment.

His concern was much more than the late train, it was the hour’s journey ahead and the increased amount of rush due the lack of punctuality. It was his fifth time in the same month of returning late after a hectic day at work. However, that day he had left an hour early to get the wrapped box in his bag.

The train arrived at 8:31 and as he was crushed from all sides by the crowd, his mind wandered off to a memory of 16 years ago. The doctor called him inside the room at exactly 8:31 p.m. and it was at this exact moment when his life changed.

“Andar chalo aur jagah banao.” Screamed the men who stood dangerously risking their life at the door. Madhav wondered how could someone live so carefree while standing literally one step away from a life threatening accident. A hard push on his back derailed his train of thoughts and he hurried to get closer to his friends who always exchanged seats with him.

“Took you long enough to get here.” The youngest member of their group, Ranjith, stood up to offer Madhav his seat.
“Don’t you think I should be the one saying that?” As he leaned towards the seat, his sandal’s final stitch came off and he tripped over.

“For god’s sake, Madhav! Buy a new sandal already. How long are you going to repair that good-for-nothing sandal of yours?” His friends screamed in a single voice.
“Surely with my next payment.” He pulled the bag closer to his chest and dozed off with an inward smile.

Like a preset alarm clock, he woke up exactly when the train reached his hometown. Madhav wished his travel partners a farewell and rather than walking, he took an auto to his home.

Once he reached the entrance of his chawl, he saw a group of kids leaving from the same gate. Way too late, grabbing the bag close to him, he ran for his home. Priya was about to close the door as her friends had just left but Madhav stepped in time.
“Won’t you invite me in?” He spoke with pausing at every word to catch his breath.

“Nope. You’re too late. And where’s my chocolate?” She pushed the door shut.
“First, let me in.” He motioned to his bag with a sly smile and Priya opened the door out of curiosity.

Madhav picked out Priya’s favorite chocolate box from his bag and she jumped with joy. “Thank you so much, Papa!”
“See, I told you he’d be here before 10.” Madhav’s wife walked in the room and her high pitched voice seemed to resonate in the tiny apartment.

“You always get me my favorite chocolates, I so love them! It’s extra special because I get them only on my birthdays. You two are the best.” Priya pulled them together in her arms and hugged them.

“Are you really that happy with this gift?” Madhav pulled away from Priya and looked at his wife, “I guess we shouldn’t give her the gift we wanted to give her, yes honey?”

“There’s another gift?” Priya tried to take a look in Madhav’s bag but he raised it high away from her.

“Wait for it.” He handed her a tiny box wrapped in pink gift-wrap and she gently opened it. As the gift unveiled Priya’s excitement turned to silence and her eyes filled with tears. Once it was completely exposed, Priya was holding a brand new smartphone in her hands.

“I don’t want this, Pa!” She held back her tears and tried to put on a brave face but Madhav pulled her in his arms and said,

“You’ve been an understanding kid all your childhood, beta. I don’t want you to be understanding, I want you to be a princess. I may not have been able to give you the riches nor the luxuries yet you never tried to rebel or uttered a no. Alas, it is what destiny served me, but no more! Your mom and I have realized what a gem you’ve been and without your understanding or support we may still be living in the illegal slums. You became a warrior too soon, baby. Now it’s time to live like a princess.”

With every tear that touched the ground, Madhav and his wife were happier than the day Priya was born in their poor little family. For today, she was reborn as a princess who they’d do everything to keep the happiest.

©The Honest FablerAshutosh Gursale
©Image Source – Google Images


Madhav Ramanathan is a fictional character of the Fabler’s imagination. Resemblance to any person alive or passed, is purely coincidental.

A Short Novel and a Youtube Channel!

Ahoy amigo!

It’s been quite a while that I’ve been active. That’s since past few days, I’ve been working on a few projects of my own! Like a Short Novel — “Not Anymore” and my youtube channel but more about that later.

*Turning to a, rather serious tone than usual.

Yesterday, everyone celebrated Children’s Day with a lot of enthusiasm over the social networks. I’m very glad to see that but how many of us, are aware about the children suffering serious injustice and violation of their rights as a human being? These acts of violation are not only limited to child labor and the rotten system of child trafficking but even at our households.

When people come together, we do great things. We bring great changes. The change our society needs, now, is ensuring the safety of every child. Recently, we’ve all read, seen and heard in the news about the grotesque rapes and murders of children and even infants. What else, have we done, other than just feeling bad about it? Worst case scenario, we ignored it because it makes “Me sick to my gut”?

This isn’t everything our nation has. It’s just the first side of a coin. Then what lies on the other side? A world that’ll be safe for every child roaming on the streets of this country. Only sitting behind a screen and spreading the word by using #MakeIndiaSafeAgain won’t change a thing(I may be guilty of it, too)! But it’ll surely start a stir.

A single person can never bring great change on his own, he can only start it. That’s what, Nobel Peace Laureate, Kailash Satyarthi has done for us. The first step of bringing the change has already been taken. He and his team have rescued countless children from the child trafficking network and still work on it. Meanwhile, the initiative of Bharat Yatra has brought into execution to make our society aware of the problems that are eating us from the inside.

Truth be told, no child is safe until every child is safe.

If you have any suggestions that might help the cause, do make it heard by the ones who can give it a platform on their official website.

Talking for myself, I fail to suggest any new tactics or a way to help make our society safer. Thus, I did something I’m fairly good at. Inspired from the experience shared by Kailash ji on Kaun Banega Crorepati I wrote a short novel to help spread the cause and it’s adverse effects on our lives.

Download it here (To get the e-book mail me at


With that said, I hope one day our world would be a better place for every child and an adult.

As an endnote, the second project that I’ve been working on — is my narration skills. I’ve even started a youtube channel! Check it out here: The Honest Fabler.

Peace out.

©The Honest Fabler
©Cover Credits — Public domain Image

Left with her wings

I have this little angel. For me she left her wings.
She has no idea how much happiness she truly brings.
She brightens up my days with her smiles and her laughs.
She helps me to remember all the blessings that I have.

Her face, it is so perfect, she’s sweet and soft and pure.
Sometimes she can be willful and sometimes she is demure.
She tries her very hardest to please and do what’s right.
She gives the greatest hugs from morning until night.

Every person that has known her sees this light within her soul
I know that in this whole great world, she has a special role.
She’s helpful and considerate to everyone she knows
This light in her shines brighter as my angel grows.

When she sees someone is sad, it opens up her heart.
She wants to do all that she can; she wants to do her part.
She’ll squeeze away the sorrow and make me forget about my pain.
She shows me where the sun is when we’re hiding from the rain.

I know that God must love me, He showed me with His Grace
I knew just how completely when I saw my angel’s face.
And in that very moment when she came into my world,
I knew that she was so much more than just my baby girl.

She would be my sunshine, with a sweetness that won’t end.
And when she grows up one day she would be my closest friend.
She would be the reason I would always try my best.
For my little angel baby girl would be my greatest test.

When God entrusts to you an angel, who has left her wings for you.
Encircle her with love with everything you do.
Let her know God made her, and that He trusts you with her care.
Be sure to make time for special moments with her to share.

And when at night she finally says her prayers and goes to sleep
I Thank Him for my angel, and ask for him to always keep
A watchful eye and hand to protect her from this world.
Protect my little angel;
Protect my baby girl.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee

Short Stories 1.0 + The Best Announcement!

Announcement Time!

Before I start — A very Happy Diwali to everyone.

A few months ago, Codex Publishing House was formed and to give a chance to new authors in getting published, they conducted a search for the best short stories to be included in the anthology — The Midget Allegories!

It gives me immense pleasure to announce that 6 of my short stories have been selected in the anthology! YES, I still can’t believe I’m going to get the tag of being a published author. *Heavy Breathing.

Here’s the first look at the cover, the details of buying the book would be posted as soon as the link is available:

short stories

Recently, I faced a writer’s block. Weird enough, the writer’s block was only limited to tales and poems! Why? Because all the time, I continued to write short stories and now seems a good time to blog them!

Unlike before, blogging a single short story seems pointless, as it’s really short. So, I’d posting series of short stories together! These, obviously won’t be related in anyway with one another but would be categorized based on there chronology.

I hope you like it! 🙂


short stories


short stories


short stories


short stories

©The Honest Fabler
©Image Credits – The sketches are from pinterest and tumblr.

I’d really appreciate constructive criticism as I know the photos aren’t the best and there’s always room for improvement in the way one writes.

My Lost Captain

O’ Captain!

I’ve forgotten the value of words.
Or maybe I’ve stopped listening to the melodic birds?

Every time I try to write, to imagine, to break out of my cocoon,
My brain goes berserk & I know I’ve lost my boon!
Sending papers fly out in air,
I bang my head down in despair!

I need to write.
Something that won’t give my blood pressure a flight.

I review what I’ve written so far.
“Utter bullshit!”, I scream, “Just put me under a car!”

Take a deep breath, indulge in your mind.
Ask yourself, what has really turned you blind?

Tick tock, tick tock.
Random words won’t break my writer’s block.

“Don’t hit it harder, man!
Let yourself go, without a plan.”

That’s how it has always been.
The only cure that I’ve ever seen.

Stop your rants at once, boy.
The power of words is not a kid’s toy.

My brain screams, “Grow up!”
And I hold my urge to snap with a “Shut up.”

I embrace the suggestion, instead.
Hoping it’s better when I get up from bed.

Then comes the worst part & insomnia arrives.
Now, I’m scared if I’ve lost all my writer’s lives.

“Nothing as such exists, you naïve!
I’m just gone to make you realize what it means to be deprived!
Think of me with your purest heart,
I’ll come back to you when you really start.”

I listen to the voice and soon after I began.
“Tell me, Oh Captain, where had you ran?”

To which my Captain calls me a fool.
Says that I drowned him in an ignorance pool.

“Don’t you stop here, my old friend.
Have faith in yourself, for I know you’ll never let our chapter end.”

©The Honest FablerAshutosh Gursale
©Image Source – Google Images

Autumn of one’s life

A gray old woman sits all alone
Unloved, uncherished and unknown.
Sitting beside her broken door.
Dreaming of days past long ago,
When children played about her knee,
Filling the air with childish glee,
Tended by her with loving care.
Knowing the blessing of a Mother’s prayer.
But now they have gone, each to his life
A girl to her husband, a boy to his wife,
Forgetful are they of her who sits here,
Silently wiping a tricking tear,
For striving for things in a life so brief,
Blind their poor eyes to a dear Mother’s grief.
But does she upbraid them in word or in mind.
Nor does their neglect to her seem unkind.
She’ll forgive and forget all unkindness they’ve shown
This poor old mother who sits alone.
I see the sadness in your eyes,
The times that you are knowing
What’s happening to your wondrous mind,
The symptoms you are showing.

It was so hard to recognize,
When they started coming through.
The little things that changed you
From the person that I knew.

The doctor’s confirmation
Was so hard to accept,
To know that little could be done,
That there’s no cure as of yet.

Forgive me, dear, if sometimes
I give in to my frustrations.
It’s just so overwhelming,
This change in our relations.

Now I’m the one to be on guard,
To keep you safe from harm,
Protecting you the best I can
And not showing my alarm.

I hope you still can understand
How much you mean to me.
Though you curse me, or forget me,
I’ll accept what has to be.

For I will still remember
The joys that we once shared.
You showed me in so many ways
How very much you cared.

I pray to God to give me strength
To do what must be done,
To trust that in the future
This battle will be won.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee

And The Story Begins…

When I first met you I was so shy,
I couldn’t even hold your hand
or kiss you good-bye.
But after a while I started falling in love with you,
And next thing I know,
I was so much attached to you….

Now every morning when I wake up
I see you lying next to me.
You are the one I cherish and love,
A blessing sent from Heaven above.

I will love you as a faithful partner should,
And do everything
for you that I could.
I would let you know everyday,
That I love you more than words can say.

I thank the Lord above
For blessing me with you,
Our relation shall never fade away,
I’ll just keep on loving you ,

Every single day……
Every single day…..

I desire to know you in every detail
Give me this chance, my heart will not fail
Life is a trial, that’s never ending
But together is time we could be spending.

I barely know you, its happened so rapid
And to you this may seem a little drastic
I have to reveal, can’t hold it any longer
You’ve got me trapped in a box of wonder.

Out destinies could intertwine forever
Girl just come to me, it’s now or never
Think of the happiness that’s yet to be
If you would surrender your heart to me.

From the day we met,
God has grown closer to me
From the day we met,
“more than I ever prayed for”
is how I see life.

From the day we met,
I lose myself in laughter
and love feels so good.
From the day we met,
each time I look in your eyes,
my heart skips a beat.

From the day we met,
my life hasn’t been the same.
I’ll never look back!

My love is yours,
my life is yours;
for you fulfilled more then my dreams could ever design!

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee